In the end, he was utterly defeated.

In that instant, Mu Qingcheng felt as though the man before her was gradually revealing the true nature he had always possessed. Dominant, stubborn, and wild—he radiated a fierce, predatory intensity, much like a solitary wolf king. He had always circled her, watchful and intent, protecting her safety while simultaneously waiting for the chance to tear her apart and consume her whole.

His purpose… was deeper and more absolute than anyone else's.

At this moment, Mu Qingcheng tried to withdraw her hand from Si Qingchen's grasp, but no matter how she struggled, she could not break free. After a while, her body, weakened by the fever, lost its strength, and she slumped back against the chair, breathing heavily in shallow gasps.

Si Qingchen, unhurried and composed, asked in a deep voice, “Do you understand what I mean, Qingcheng?”

He had never been so forceful with her before. He gave her no opportunity to escape, holding her with a deadly resolve, leaving her nowhere to hide as her heart raced in terror.

But she did understand. She understood why he acted this way. It was nothing more than forcing her to confront her own feelings—to acknowledge what lay in her heart, and how she felt about him.

Yet none of this was part of Mu Qingcheng’s original plan. Si Qingchen himself... was never meant to be.

“Qingcheng, I need your answer now.”

The man, seemingly determined, continued to hold her hand, relentless and unyielding, demanding an answer. Even though they both knew it, he insisted she say it aloud, refusing to let go until she did.

Time passed, with the two locked in a stalemate, gazing at each other in silence. At last, when Mu Qingcheng could no longer hold back, her eyes reddened and tears fell, forced out by his persistence. Si Qingchen, seeing this, finally... gave in.

He sighed heavily and released her hand with resignation. Yet, just as Mu Qingcheng’s heart fell suddenly empty, he leaned down and lifted her into his arms, settling her securely onto his lap.

Si Qingchen’s dominance was undiminished. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressed her head down, and drew her firmly into his embrace. His breath, rough and resigned, sounded above her head. Mu Qingcheng’s senses blurred, her tears fell in a steady stream.

Moist drops splashed onto the back of his hand, making him stiffen and, at last, softening his heart.

“All right, I was wrong. Don’t cry, Qingcheng, don’t cry.”

“You bastard.”

“Yes, I am a bastard.”

“Si Qingchen, you…”

In her flailing and kicking, Si Qingchen suddenly reached out, grasped her chin, and lifted her tear-streaked face, shattered beneath his coarse fingertips. Then he bent down low and kissed her fiercely.

****

Meanwhile,

At the hospital entrance,

Having witnessed Mu Qingcheng taken away by Si Qingchen, Mu Jingchi felt a surge of nameless anger ignite within him. An inexplicable, poisonous emotion spread through his body in mere seconds.

Not far off,

A group of reporters finally recovered from their shock, clearly caught off guard by the appearance of the Si family. They gathered together, whispering among themselves. Yet they all understood that this matter was now utterly impossible to pursue or expose any further.

Just as they prepared to disperse, a sharp figure appeared before them once more. Before the crowd could react, a cold, irritable voice rang out,

“Do you have some time? Perhaps… we could have a chat?”

The reporters fell silent.